


Treasure Hunt, Part Three

by soufflegirl91



Series: Souffle's Choose Your Own Adventure April [11]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: I can't think of tags right now, M/M, Q really hates his life sometimes, The treasure hunt has a winner, still probably crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soufflegirl91/pseuds/soufflegirl91
Summary: The still-not-a-capture-the-flag-exercise has a winner. Is it who you expected? What IS the mysterious prize? Read more to find out!
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: Souffle's Choose Your Own Adventure April [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691788
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62
Collections: MI6 Cafe Collections





	Treasure Hunt, Part Three

**Author's Note:**

> And so we round off the CYOA April challenge. None of the Treasure Hunt fics were strictly necessary for the challenge, but I had a lot of fun writing them.
> 
> I didn't really expect to take this challenge very seriously back at the start of April. 3 weeks later, now look where we are. Oops. Lockdown does that to a person! 
> 
> This one isn't betad because I was in a rush.

“Sir? Q here. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday morning, but you said to let you know as soon as the treasure hu- I mean capture the flag exercise had a winner.”

Q was slumped forwards, elbows on his desk as one fist propped up his chin and the other held his phone. After staying up far too late two nights in a row to laugh at the antics of the field agents, he was suddenly feeling the lack of sleep. Just a few more things to sort out, then he could go home, have a long soak in the bath and an early night. R could look after the rest of the contestants, now that the winner was back.

“Oh, good. Do pass on my congratulations. I’ll be waiting for them in my office at 0700 tomorrow.”

Ah, yes. The prize. That _was_ going to go down well. 

“Yes, sir. I’ll let them know. Tanner’s going to send an email out about the bets once all the agents are back in.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I don’t suppose you’d…?” M trailed off with a significant pause. 

Well, Q supposed that being the boss meant that there weren’t really _any_ secrets, after all. And if M _hadn’t_ bet on the winner, he would eat his favourite tie. 

“004 almost had it, sir, but stumbled at the last hurdle. Bond pipped her to the post. He’s on his way in now, and Mr Llewellyn tells me he’s being unbearably smug.”

“HA!” M barked a laugh through the phone so loudly that Q worried for a moment about temporary deafness. “I’ll bet he is. Let’s see how long that lasts, shall we. Don’t go giving him any hints, Q.”

 _Believe me, sir, I wouldn’t tell him for all the tea in China,_ is what Q wanted to say.

“No, sir,” is what he actually said. 

“I want to savour the look on his face when he finds out his prize is an eight week undercover mission in Lucerne.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted, sir. He does so love Switzerland.” 

If Q remembered correctly, Bond’s real opinion of Switzerland was “honestly, Q, how can a country with such good cheese, chocolates and clocks be so bloody _boring,_ I couldn’t come back to Britain fast enough” but what M didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Very good, Q. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” 

M hung up, and Q let the phone drop to the desk with a clatter. He was just contemplating the merits of banging his head against the desk when there was a knock on the office door.

“You asked to see me, sir?” 

“Ah, Mr Llewellyn, come in.” Q tiredly waved the shy tech into the room. “I wanted to congratulate you personally. I’m sure no one expected you to get 007 over the finish line quite so… efficiently.”

Mr Llewellyn gulped.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr Llewellyn, but didn’t I give you strict instructions to make sure Bond _didn’t_ win? Because I’m sure I did.”

“You did, sir.”

“And yet, it _seems_ , Mr Llewellyn, that he _did_ win. Do you know what that means, Mr Llewellyn?”

The tech paled.

“No, sir?”

“It _means_ , Mr Llewellyn, that I have to put up with an insufferably smug agent _all night_. And, Mr Llewellyn, it also means that I will then have to put up with said agent becoming insufferably _whingy_ when he realises he’s being sent to Switzerland tomorrow. And if that wasn’t _enough,_ Mr Llewellyn, I then have to spend the next two bloody months with my husband on the world’s most boring undercover mission even though _we were meant to be going on holiday in two weeks, Mr Llewellyn!”_

Mr Llewellyn looked like he was considering whether the best way to get out of this situation was spontaneous combustion or bursting into tears. 

Q took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten before turning his calmest smile on the minion. It only made him look even more terrifying.

“So the next time I tell you to make sure 007 doesn’t win a bloody treasure hunt, Mr Llewellyn, I expect you to make that happen. Even if it means temporarily putting him on MI5’s most wanted list. Is that understood?”

“...yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed. Consider yourself lucky. The last person who disrupted our holiday plans disagreed with something that ate him.”

Mr Llewellyn wondered if it wasn't too late to put in for a transfer back to GCHQ. 


End file.
